Once a man spit at me, enraged with fear, yet trickling with curiosity
“You put a spell on me.” he scolded, a declaration of some sort
As if I were up next for the Salem Witch Trials, wooden pellets poking at my feet
In fury I cast one then from my tongue, “If this were to be true, then how can the man I loved seem to think not much of my hex?”
Boiled and Brewed I waited, the bubbles exploded from my mouth, seething
Just then, The temperature was taken off the stove
He replied, “Simple, he did not believe in magic as I do.”
A man’s world, yet we pretend it’s barbies!
For dinner, a five-course meal on women’s wishes,
Twisted peppercorn flakes on their golden platter
A dish made for one’s own taste buds
